


and yet, and yet (the box of letters under the bed)

by dr33g



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: ASK TO TAG CUZ IM DUMBASS, Angst with a Happy Ending, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Love Confessions, M/M, Magical Scar Headcanons, Post A+ Support, bernie and hubie are besties change my mind (you cant), claude is trans and i dont mention it but so is ferdie js, homeboy sucks at tagging these things uh, hubie almost dies but HE DOESNT
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 11:31:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20446448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dr33g/pseuds/dr33g
Summary: Hubert nearly dies saving Ferdinand, and he's left with a cryptic message and a key to Hubert's room while Hubert sleeps. He doesn't expect to find a box of letters, all addressed to him. They are the compliments Hubert swore to put in writing, back when they were drinking tea and coffee together.





	and yet, and yet (the box of letters under the bed)

**Author's Note:**

> hewwo.... *hands you an aegestra* please....... love urself  
kgdslfafsdfi thank you so much for considering this fic. i hope you enjoy !!!

_Ferdinand,_

_I am nearly certain you were joking when you said that the next time I should compliment you, I should put in a letter, but I did promise, and a noble always keeps their word. I’m nearly quoting you, yes?_

_ However, the idea of showing this to you, or even you knowing this exists, fills me with nausea, so I’ll just have to keep all of these letters to myself. This may be the first one I am writing, but you somehow end up surprising me every day. I do not doubt there will be more to come. _

_ If you ever do end up reading these, ideally I won’t be there to see it. The embarrassment would kill me, I think. _

_ Why is it that seeing the good in you, of all people, is the only time I feel embarrassed for stating the truth? Anyone else, I can simply rattle off their traits without any concern. But you… You are different. _

_ Perhaps it is simply because I know you are uncomfortable with me saying these things. Perhaps it is something else. Only time will tell, I suppose. _

_ For now, I shall keep my promise, and you will not even know it. _

<strike> _ Yours, _ </strike>

<strike>_ Sincerely, _ </strike>

_ From, _

_ Hubert von Vestra _

\--

Ferdinand isn’t quite sure what’s happening. He’s cold and numb and pretty sure he’s screaming, but he can’t be, because he can hear what Hubert just told him and feel the key pressed into his hand better than he’s ever felt or heard anything.

“This key is for my room. Once you’ve gotten inside, check for a silver box hidden under my bed. It will tell you all I haven’t got the time for,” Hubert had said, just moments before.

Hubert had taken a blow for him and was going to die because of it.

Hubert was going to die and it was Ferdinand’s fault.

“Move, you idiot, unless you want Hubert to actually die!” Linhardt nearly screams, waking Ferdinand from his panic. He quickly starts and moves away, letting Linhardt and Mercedes press their hands to Hubert’s wound and pour as much white magic as they can over it. It’s closing up, sure, but not enough. Lysithea and Byleth manage to tear themselves away from a fight that’s nearly won and continue the process of healing, applying bandages to wounds that will still cause a bleed out if left untreated, but not big enough to use white magic on. Ferdinand is almost sure that no more people could possibly be helping, but then Manuela, finished taking care of any other serious wounds, comes and begins pouring white magic.

Linhardt passes out from magic exhaustion. Byleth catches him, holding him in their arms, petting his head with one hand as they heal with the other. “You did all you could, Linhardt,” Ferdinand hears. It sounds like they’re claiming that Hubert is destined to die, but he holds on to the fact that all of their healers would not continue to pour white magic into him if it were the case.

“He’s stable!” yells a relieved Mercedes, and Ferdinand nearly collapses from the relief flooding his system, replacing the adrenaline. Byleth slides their arms under Linhardt’s prone form and lifts him, beginning to walk to the infirmary tent.

Ferdinand is about to speak, but Byleth says, “If you want to be of help, pick up Hubert and follow me.” Ferdinand nods and quickly follows orders. He’s still barely conscious, wondering how he’s even still standing when he hears the tell-tale screech of Hubert’s dearest friend, Bernadetta.

“Wh-What happened?! Is he okay? Is he d-d-dead? Oh gods, I--”

Luckily, seeing as Ferdinand is still far from being able to talk, Byleth answers, “He’s stable. He took a bad hit, but we managed.”

“What about Linhardt?”

“Magic exhaustion.”

“O-Oh. So he--”

“Overexerted himself to save Hubert, yes.” She sighs, her breath shaking. 

“I-I-I’ll have to make him something, then. As thanks. For saving h-” She sniffles, barely holding back tears. “Hubert’s safe. He’s safe, Bernie. T-There’s no need to--” And she wails again, and Ferdinand finds himself wishing he could feel, sympathize, _ anything_, instead of just feel this terrible acidic numbness that was centered on his heart. She clutches Hubert’s hand like a lifeline, walking with him, them, all 5 of them, but only 3 of them are there, and he-- 

Ferdinand feels nothing. He feels nothing but pain in his chest, eating at everything beyond that.

He’s barely even listening at this point, just following Byleth as they place Linhardt on a cot, and Ferdinand does the same with Hubert on the cot next to him. Bernadetta’s still crying, he thinks. He can’t hear it. He can’t hear anything.

He can only see how Hubert barely looks alive, save for the way the hair that falls over his eye moves with every exhale.

Before he registers what’s happened, he finds himself in front of Hubert’s room. The professor is there with him.

“He gave you that key for a reason,” they say. 

“He thought he was dying,” Ferdinand replies.

“He isn’t dead, Ferdinand.” And finally, something in him slots into place. He feels himself heave, and his face is wet, his throat hurts, he’s laying on the professor’s shoulder, and he’s weeping, crying, sobbing, screaming. 

“He isn’t dead,” Byleth repeats. “He’s alive.”

\--

_ Dear Ferdinand, _

_ Today, you wore your hair up in an elaborate bun, with flowers tucked into it. Petra helped you, you said. You were smiling, saying you liked the way it felt to free your neck. _

_ At the time, I simply said it was nice, and moved on, but that was a lie. You are simply the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. _

_ I could stare at your throat, your smile, your hair, your being for hours and never tire of it. I could barely even cope with being around you for seconds at a time. Had I not looked away so soon after I said what I said, I think I would have done something, though I cannot for the life of me figure out what._

_ I noticed you seemed upset, after that, because I would only look at you for very quick moments, instead choosing to look at my gloves. Did you think I disliked it? Could you possibly not know just how enchanting you are when you are happy? _

_ I think I may have ruined our tea time with that. How selfish of me. _

_ I hope you wear your hair up more, even if it kills me. It suits you much more than I care to admit, even in writing. _

_ From, _

_ Hubert _

\--

Ferdinand awakes to find himself in the infirmary rather than his room. He wonders why for barely a moment before it all comes rushing back.

The battle. The key. _Hubert._

He groans and squeezes his eyes shut as if it will clear away the bad memories taunting him. It doesn’t. He sits up, realizing that he must’ve fallen asleep in the cot next to Hubert’s. He laughs, sad. It’s almost pathetic how much this has affected him. Were their positions traded, he has no doubt Hubert would be functioning just as he always did. What an idiot Ferdinand was for caring so much. 

Ferdinand sighs into the not-quite-empty room and stands, ready to do exactly what Hubert asked of him right before he fell.

It’s all he could do, really, other than just wait and watch the living corpse sleep.

_ Off to Hubert’s room, I suppose. _

Before he can leave, Linhardt, who Ferdinand wasn’t even aware was in the infirmary at all, speaks.

“You aren’t helping,” Linhardt says, a little indignant.

“Ah, Linhardt! Forgive me, I was lost in thought. I didn’t even notice you were here.” Linhardt rolls his eyes. 

“Like you’d ever notice anyone but Hubert in a room.”

“E-Excuse me?”

“Never mind that. I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually. Look, all I wanted to say was that staring at him like that isn’t going to wake him up any sooner.”

“Well, of course, but--”

Linhardt continues, almost as if he didn’t even notice Ferdinand trying to butt in, “See, magic isn’t just faith or reason, it’s energy, just like anything else. To heal someone, you need to take that energy from somewhere. Due to the patient’s low likelihood of a high amount of energy, most of the time, healers take it from themselves. That’s what causes magical exhaustion. Seeing as _ I _ am the only healer that was willing to push the limits of their energy--” he sounds rather annoyed, at this-- “He needs a lot of time to rest. For that energy to be rebuilt, so that he can even be fully conscious, let alone open his eyes.”

“I-- I see.”

“So, staring isn’t helping, Ferdinand. Shoo. Go find a horse to pet, or something.” The bishop waves his hands, and Ferdinand gasps as he notices something new.

Linhardt had scars crawling up his fingers, down his palm, and up to his wrists, small swirls that wrapped around his hands, decorating them. Linhardt scowls. “Damn, you noticed.”

“Linhardt, what are--”

“My scars are the product of true magic exhaustion. When you pull too far, harder than you should, the magic becomes etched on you, tearing into you. Each spell has its own design. Most white magic comes out looking like this, while Thoron and Thunder come out looking like electrical scars, Fire and Bolganone like burns, and so on.”

“So, you got those because of Hubert?”

“And others.” The bishop shrugs. “Every mage knows the risks. I quite like them, to be honest.” There’s a pause. “A mark that shows I really do care and try hard, at some things.”

“Anyone that knows you doesn’t need to see scars to know that.”

“Still. They are quite pretty, at least, the white magic ones, don’t you think? But I’ve rambled on long enough about this, you have to go do whatever it is Hubert was talking about right before he collapsed, yes?”

“How did you--”

“I’m very observant, Ferdinand. Now, _ go _.”

\--

_ Dear Ferdinand, _

_ Today was the first time you’ve ever managed to find a tea I found drinkable, other than the Hresvelg blend I would have with Edelgard. Cinnamon… Who would’ve thought? However, it isn’t the tea I am writing about. It was fine, but the real gift was your reaction. _

_ I don’t believe I have ever seen you so happy about something. You hugged me. I find that the phantoms of your touch are still affecting me, even now. I can feel your arms wrapped around me in joy and victory. I believe that were I to have any skill in the matter, I could paint your smile exactly, with how effectively it has burned itself into my memory. _

_ I realized that I could’ve been drinking liquid sugar, and I still would have felt the same sense of joy that I did today when you saw that I went for a second sip. The tea had nothing to do with it. You had everything to do with it. _

_ Why is it that I feel this way? What have you done to me? _

_ I would be lying if I said I didn’t like it. _

_ Yours, _

_ Hubert _

\--

Ferdinand stands in front of the door, knowing that what he’s about to face is what Hubert wants, and yet, and yet, he cannot open the door. He has the key in his hand. All he needs to do is put it in, unlock the door, and look for the box. 

He cannot do it, and yet, and yet, he finds his hand doing it anyway.

He twists the key, and the lock clicks open, and he finds it so loud in his silent head, even though his thoughts are practically screaming at him. _ This is what Hubert wanted of you. This was his dying wish, even though he lives. Go, go, go. _Ferdinand twists the handle and walks into Hubert’s room, barely comprehending anything.

The room is just like he would expect. Cleaned perfectly, with a few personal touches only Hubert’s closest friends would even notice. Coffee rings on some tables, a book slightly out of place, but all and all extremely tidy.

Ferdinand wishes it were incredibly dirty because at least then he could clean it up before finding the box. 

He walks over to the bed and looks underneath, finding nothing. He frowns, then remembers this is Hubert. He would never leave something important in plain sight. He reaches underneath the bed, feeling around for anything that could be hiding a box when he feels a loose board in the bed frame. He wiggles it around, and a box falls from whatever gap he has created onto the floor below. The crack of the metal on the floor makes him wince.

He reaches for the box and pulls it out so that he may look at it. It’s ornate, likely silver, and heavy. There’s a latch keeping it shut, and the moment he unhooks it, it spills open, as if the poor thing was barely holding itself closed. Out from it spills pieces of paper, all numbered on one side and sealed shut with the Von Vestra coat of arms. _ Did Hubert leave me a series of Von Vestra secrets? _He frowns, organizing them into number order, and picks up the one marked with the 1. He opens it, gently, and it surprises him by being a letter, addressed to him, dated months previous.

He finishes the first, and a wave of cold envelops him, icy hot. He picks up the second, the third, fourth, and he reads them all like a hungry man eating his first meal in weeks. He holds the last one in his hands and begins to weep, crinkling the paper as he makes fists. _ I love him. I’ve loved him all this time, and only now I realize it, while he’s asleep, somewhere I cannot reach. _

“Hubert, you idiot--” He abandons them all on the floor, rushing back to the infirmary.

\--

_ Dearest Ferdinand, _

_ You didn’t do anything different today. Not in the least, and yet I found myself still watching every flutter of your eyelashes, every gesture of your hands, every shape your lips made. Dorothea asked me why I was so distracted, and I noticed she seemed happy for me. When I asked about it afterward, she simply went, “What, you being in love with Ferdie?” And suddenly, everything made sense. _

_ I love you, Ferdinand Von Aegir. I love your determination, your optimism, your smile, your hair, your stupidity, your love of tea, your hatred of coffee, your devotion to your horse, your eyes, your kindness, you. I love you. _

_ But you deserve a man with cleaner hands than me, a man that can treat you well enough. I am merely a shadow. _

_ How fitting it is that a shadow fell in love with the sun. _

_ Love, forever and ever, _

_ Hubert _

\--

Hubert is out for 2 more days, and Ferdinand refuses to leave his side.

There are only two other visitors, Bernadetta, and occasionally a healer. 

“He will wake up, r-right?” she asks.

“He has to. If he doesn’t… Let’s not linger on that.” She nods, sniffling. He hasn’t seen her without tears in her eyes since it happened.

“He’ll wake up, Bernie. He’ll wake up and then Bernie can give him all the embroidery projects she’s been making, and all the paintings she’s been doing. He’ll love them, and Bernie will smile, and it will be okay,” she whispers. He has to agree. 

Linhardt brings them both food as they watch one of the dearest people in their lives sleep. He never says anything other than, “He’ll wake up soon.”

Every time, it feels more like a lie.

Until it isn’t. 

It’s early morning. Bernadetta, who sleeps in her bed like a normal person, isn’t in the infirmary. Ferdinand is barely awake himself. He simply clutches Hubert’s hand and kisses it.

“Wake up, you idiot.” And, like Ferdinand himself cast the spell, Hubert’s eyes flutter open. For a moment, Ferdinand is sure he’s hallucinating, until the hand in his squeezes.

“You read the letters, didn’t you?” Hubert says, voice dry and cracked. 

“I--”

Bernadetta screeches, “Hubert! You’re awake!” She rushes to his side, and with that scream, the whole monastery knows. Everyone rushes into the infirmary, and Ferdinand steps out.

Everyone else will have their time, and he can wait. 

And he does. He waits around an hour before everyone, save Bernadetta, has left. He walks in, still out of the way, not wanting to interrupt their moment. 

“Ferdinand,” Hubert says, and it sounds much better. A healer must have gotten him to drink something. 

“I-I’ll leave you two, okay?” Bernadetta nods to her friend, and she leaves, nodding to Ferdinand as well. With her absence, the infirmary falls silent. 

“You read the letters? You wouldn’t be waiting around here if you hadn’t,” says Hubert, defeated and tired. Ferdinand has never heard him so vulnerable. And yet, and yet, Ferdinand laughs, he laughs and laughs until he’s crying. He’s crying, and he walks to Hubert’s side and grabs his hand.

“You’re an idiot if you think those damned letters are the reason I’m here.”

“What are you--”

“Hubert, you are one of my dearest friends. I was here for over a day before I even read those things. I wept and sat here, waiting for you to wake up. You took a hit for me--”

“That was nothing.”

“You nearly died, Hubert!” Hubert flinches at Ferdinand’s tone, looking far more upset than he has any right to be. Ferdinand sighs, squeezing Hubert’s hand, and says, “You knew you were about to die, that’s why you gave me the key. Why would you wait for your death to tell me that you--”

“I didn’t think it was important for you to know while I lived.”

“Why?”

“Well, someone like me could never be worthy of someone like you.”

“You’re an idiot, then.”

“What--” Before Hubert can finish, Ferdinand kisses him. It’s gentle, tentative, and he’s somehow still scared of rejection even though he knows the truth. Hubert returns it, after a beat, and Ferdinand sighs into it. The hand he isn’t holding comes to rest on his cheek, and Ferdinand smiles.

He pulls away, still smiling, nearly about to cry, and says, “I love you, Hubert. I love your shy smile, your humor, your overprotective nature, your strength, and your weakness. I don’t care how bloody your hands are, I’ll hold them in mine. So please-- Don’t act as if we could not be happy together.”

“Are you sure? That you love me? You could choose anyone in the world, and you choose me?”

“_ Yes. _ Now, move over, I’m about to faint.” Hubert laughs.

“This is my medical cot.”

“Well, it’s mine now, before I collapse.”

-Some Time Later-

_ My dearest Hubert, _

_ Being away from you for even a week seems like a lifetime, but it is a necessary evil, I suppose. Still, being away for a month is much too long for my heart to stand. One of the many downsides to being the Prime Minister of Fodlan. _

_ The meeting I had to attend hasn’t started yet, but I’ve already had tea with Lorenz and Claude. They’re doing quite well, and send you warm regards from the Almyran crown! Don’t let this secret get out, but they have told me that Claude is with child! How exciting. An heir to their throne. _

_ Speaking of children, how are Ryley, Monroe, and Lila doing? Has Lila broken anything while I am gone? Is Ryley ready to head off to Garreg Mach yet? I am heartbroken I couldn’t be there to see him away. Give them all kisses from me, alright? _

_ How are you, my love? I hope the king hasn’t had you doing too many awful things while I am gone. I am honestly simply hoping you find yourself so bored, with only the kids to keep you company. If we are lucky, you won’t have to leave them at all until I return. _

_ I love you, my perfect shadow. I cannot wait to see you again. _

_ Yours, forever and ever, _

_ Ferdinand _

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING !!!! forgive me if my hubert is a little off in this, i dont feel like i have his voice down yet :/  
if you wanna talk aegestra, claurenz, or fe3h in general (i also have some fun rarepairs (claude/hubert/ferdie and sylvain/linhardt lmao) hehe), find me on twitter @kiralfonse !!! i promise i dont bite :3c  
please kudos and/or comment if you enjoyed !!! it would make my day if you did.  
coming soon: aegestra vampire au :3333  
edit: 9/1/19 someone finally asked about the king in the letter! surprise, its dimitri. i was secretly writing a recruitable hubert au this whole time. u were all fooled.


End file.
